Several people were furious — some puffed up with indignation, others bristling with anger — yet Zhù Ying, the very person at the center of it all, showed not the slightest sign of irritation. If anything, a faint glint of amusement played at the corners of her expression. She took matters into her own hands and personally drove out the puffed-up Wu Ren and the bristling, wild-haired Su Zhe.
Zhang Xiangu was in the adjacent room and heard the sounds of outrage. She pulled the door open a crack and peeked cautiously through the gap, only to see a group of people being ushered out. Zhù Ying kept Su Mingluan and the young man behind: “How are things at the guild hall outside? I asked you before whether you had been subjected to any mistreatment, and neither of you said a word. I am quite certain it cannot have gone as smoothly as you imply — speak up now, before the trouble grows too large to handle.”
The young man glanced at Su Mingluan; she gave a slight nod. He said, “There have been some difficulties…”
In the past, when Zhù Ying had been at court, the Wuzhou guild hall had enjoyed a fair degree of protection. Now that she had withdrawn, that protection was gone, and trouble had followed. Ordinary merchants caught in such situations had no choice but to accept their misfortune. Those stubborn enough to seek justice usually paid a steep price for the attempt.
“We paid our way through it,” the young man said.
Beyond the financial losses, there had been other forms of discrimination as well.
Zhù Ying noted everything carefully, asking the occasional question: “Did the prefect of such-and-such place know about this? Did he simply turn a blind eye?” — that manner of thing.
Su Mingluan picked up the wick-trimmer and snipped the candle on the table, speaking as she did so: “That covers the essentials — you should rest now. These matters are not so urgent. Once you return to the prefecture, we can discuss them in detail. Right now you still have one major task ahead: tomorrow you must visit the salt fields.”
Zhù Ying said, “Very well.”
Su Mingluan left with the young man. Rather than going straight to sleep, Zhù Ying took out paper and brush and wrote several pages, which she divided into two envelopes.
The next morning, when everyone had dressed and made ready, Huajie said to Zhù Ying, “I will accompany A’Niang home — do not worry about the household. It is you I am concerned about…”
“I will head back once I have inspected the salt fields. The autumn harvest will be upon us by then. We must show the court its proper respect — even if the tax yield is small, it must be paid, and I need to go back in person to see to that arrangement.”
So she would return home around the time the harvest began? Zhang Xiangu felt somewhat reassured. She said to Zhù Ying, “Be careful on the road.”
“I will.” Zhù Ying agreed, then handed the two envelopes to Su Mingluan.
At that, Zhù Ying’s party headed south, while Zhang Xiangu’s group headed north, both setting out from the main stronghold of the Asu clan. Su Zhe’s curiosity could not be contained for long; before half an incense stick had burned, she spurred her horse forward to ride alongside Zhù Ying, deliberately wearing the most exaggeratedly flattering smile she could muster — one transparent enough that everyone around her could see through it at once. “Elder~”
Zhù Ying gave a small shudder and rubbed her arm. “What is it? Speak like a normal person.”
Su Zhe burst out laughing so loudly that the birds in the surrounding trees took to the air in alarm. She coughed twice to compose herself, then asked in her ordinary voice: “Elder, what did you give my mother?”
Zhù Ying looked at her sidelong. “You want to know?”
Even Wu Ren and Lu Danqing pricked up their ears.
Zhù Ying said, “Some leverage on a few local officials — evidence of their unlawful conduct, nothing more.”
Wu Ren thought to herself: truly worthy of being Elder.
Su Zhe, however, was not satisfied and pressed for more. She was astonished: “You actually knew about their crimes? Is a Chancellor really that formidable? That means…”
She felt a mild confusion wash over her, and a sudden sense that the Chancellor of an empire might be far more unfathomably capable than she had ever imagined.
Zhù Ying said, “I learned of it back when I was at the Court of Judicial Review. At the time, pulling one thread would have unraveled the whole weave — there were too many interests to be careful of, too many parties to consider. No matter how much I disapproved, speaking up would have served no purpose, so I held my tongue rather than stir the grass and startle the snakes. Now, however…” she gave a low laugh, “…things are different.”
The Court of Judicial Review had a dedicated room for storing such materials. She could not speak for anyone else, but during her own tenure there — from her starting position as Evaluating Censor all the way through to Chief Justice — she had learned everything there was to know. There was nothing within the Court of Judicial Review that she should not have known.
Such material was particularly useful during factional struggles. In the past, various constraints had prevented her from making a clean sweep. Now that she had left the court, these case files and pieces of incriminating evidence would lose most of their value within ten or twenty years if left unused. The timing was right. Wuzhou was still in its early days and expanding; she could not allow certain figures at court to create trouble for her. Better to use the leverage while it was still effective — keep the court from causing problems, so that she had the energy to attend to real matters. That was also why she had been making a certain amount of noise lately, showing no fear of the court. A court was composed of individual people, and when it came to dealing with people, Zhù Ying had no shortage of methods.
On the other side, Su Mingluan opened the envelopes and looked inside. One contained the evidence of a certain prefect’s past offenses that Zhù Ying had described the night before. The other was a letter addressed to Hao Dafang in the capital, asking him to keep an eye on the Wuzhou guild hall there.
Inside the first envelope, Zhù Ying had also included a note: do not simply march to the authorities with this evidence in hand — the odds of success that way were very low. Instead, two steps were required. First, try gentle persuasion; then, if he refused to heed the warning, use a roundabout approach: make the evidence appear to surface by accident, then quietly spread rumors and fan the flames, allowing the matter to blow up so large that it could no longer be suppressed or covered up.
The second letter was simpler — Hao Dafang’s relationship with Zhù Ying was purely financial, so laying out the monetary terms plainly was sufficient.
Su Mingluan felt a deep admiration settle in her heart. She took both letters and had the literate men and women of the county assembled, then announced to them: “Our county will also hold its own examination this autumn. The school will select ten candidates, and I will send them to the Northern Mountain Prefecture to sit the exam. Give it your best!”
“Yes!”
Su Mingluan took the letters and went off to make her arrangements — but that is a separate thread.
…
As for Zhù Ying’s party, they made their way to the salt fields. This entire area fell within Asu County’s boundaries, and Su Zhe volunteered eagerly: “I have traveled this road twice! Let me lead the way.”
Lu Danqing mocked her: “There is only one post road here.”
“And it was I who oversaw the road repairs along it this year!” Su Zhe raised her chin proudly. She went on at length about how the road had existed before but had been in poor condition, and how she had straightened the route and renovated the four relay stations along the way.
As they traveled, they came upon a convoy of carts carrying salt outward. Zhù Ying dismounted and made a careful inspection of the horses, carts, and men alike, then spoke with the tribal soldiers escorting the convoy. Some of these soldiers recognized her and called out, “My lord!” Others, who had fallen into the habit from following Su Zhe, called her “Elder.” They were a mix — some from the estate’s own tribal troops, others from the Asu clan’s personal guards.
Zhù Ying questioned them further, asking how much salt was transported at a time, how often, whether the work was hard, whether the roads were safe, where deliveries were made, and how the handoffs were conducted.
After the soldiers had answered, Zhù Ying invited them to have tea and a meal — Wuzhou had adopted part of the court’s established regulations in this regard. Escorting salt counted as official duty, and there was a corresponding allocation. However, the standard ration for ordinary tribal soldiers was not very generous, and Zhù Ying, with a smile, added extra dishes for them. While they were eating with enthusiasm, she suddenly asked: “Someone in the middle has been skimming off the top, haven’t they?”
One young soldier spat out a mouthful of rice!
Zhù Ying went on smiling serenely. “Come now — let’s have a proper chat.”
Talking with her cost them time. When it was time to part, Zhù Ying wrote a note and gave it to the soldier who was in charge: “Take this with you. It won’t count as dereliction of duty.”
Su Zhe and the others had also overheard what the soldiers said. Embezzlement of this kind was unavoidable. Zhù Ying herself, from her days at the Court of Judicial Review onward, had done her fair share of similar things — giving tribute to superiors, supplementing her household income. Su Zhe, however, was troubled; she lowered her voice and said to Zhù Ying, “There will always be a few shirkers and schemers in any group. The salt fields belong to our family — we are to blame for failing to keep proper watch. When we get there, we must deal with it severely.”
Lu Danqing and Wu Ren were more straightforward; they were already seething with indignation.
Zhù Ying said, “Don’t be hasty. Let us look at the salt workers first.”
“Hm?”
“When farming, the peasant men and women are the foundation. When making salt, the salt workers are the foundation. As long as the foundation is not harmed, everything else can be discussed. But if someone is deceiving those above while exploiting those below — then, well…” she gave a low laugh.
Su Zhe shook her head. “That’s not right either. If they are only deceiving those above without exploiting those below, wouldn’t that actually be worse? I thought she was a decent person before — I never imagined she could be so cunning!”
Lu Danqing said, “How could that be… Oh!” The realization struck her.
Only Wu Ren was still lost. Zhù Ying sighed. “Let’s go.”
When the group arrived at the salt fields, the woman overseeing the operation was somewhere in her thirties, with dark, sun-browned skin and clean-cut features. Though not very tall, she carried herself with an air of sharp competence. She wore a blue robe embroidered with red flowers, and as she moved, five or six silver bracelets jingled at her wrists.
She approached and recognized Su Zhe first, greeting her with, “Little Sister.” She was a relative of the Asu clan.
Su Zhe’s expression was not warm. With a stiff face, she introduced Zhù Ying and the others, then said to Zhù Ying, “Her name is Peacock.”
Peacock greeted Zhù Ying with a cheerful “Elder!” and mentioned that she had once attended the school there, though by that time Zhù Ying had already left Wuzhou.
Zhù Ying nodded and glanced around. “Well done,” she said.
Peacock led them to their quarters — a two-courtyard compound that was hers, which she cleared entirely for Zhù Ying and her party to use. Zhù Ying asked, “Then where will you stay?”
Peacock smiled. “There is a guesthouse over that way. Merchants occasionally pass through and lodge there. It has a full complement of furniture and bedding.”
Zhù Ying did not insist otherwise. Su Zhe, however, quietly pulled Peacock aside and hissed: “What exactly have you been doing?”
Peacock looked genuinely puzzled. “What?”
Su Zhe gave a cold laugh. “Oh, keep playing innocent.” She asked nothing more.
Once everyone was settled, Su Zhe took the lead in calling for an audit of the salt fields’ accounts. Not just anyone was fit to conduct an audit, though, and without a word from Zhù Ying, Wu Ren would not move. Su Zhe looked at Zhù Ying expectantly, and Zhù Ying said, “Let us inspect the salt fields first.”
She saw, for the first time in her life, an expanse of salt pans in every variety of color. Seawater was drawn and fed in sequence through a series of long, rectangular shallow pools, each settling into a different hue. Not far away stood a row of buildings, with smoke rising from the chimneys. Some coarse salt had been left in open piles exposed to the air.
Peacock explained: “This is the coarse salt — it still contains sand and sediment. For fine salt, you dissolve it, filter out the impurities, and then boil it down. The refined salt is stored in the warehouse over there.”
Once the inspection was complete, Peacock voluntarily presented the account books, and the warehouse was left unlocked — they were welcome to examine anything they wished. Zhù Ying gave Wu Ren a nod, and Wu Ren immediately perked up. A long journey spent admiring scenery tired her somewhat; once there were strangers’ affairs to deal with, Wu Ren always felt out of sorts. Su Zhe, meanwhile, was ill at ease because of Peacock — a relative of her own clan — having been reported. Wu Ren disliked nothing more than such tangled personal feelings.
The moment there was real work to be done, Wu Ren looked as though a burden had been lifted from her. She stepped forward and took the account books.
She could not only audit accounts — she also had some knowledge of warehouse inspection. Zhù Ying and her party settled in at the salt fields; Zhù Ying herself spent her time talking with the salt workers. At first the workers were tight-lipped — they would bow when they crossed paths and offer the usual pleasantries to her face. After three days, Zhù Ying started with the children and the women, gradually putting the workers at ease until they became, in a somewhat muddled way, willing to talk. Even then they remained guarded, and Zhù Ying had to resort to a certain degree of coaxing and clever maneuvering, drawing the conversations toward their family lives and slowly earning their trust.
Quite a few of these salt workers had been arranged to come here from Yanzhou through Zhù Ying’s efforts. They all knew who she was, but none had known she was a woman. Once that was made clear, they were all astonished: “My lord is actually a woman?”
Zhù Ying said, “Whether one is a man or a woman — does it matter? Look at this Peacock. Is there anything lacking in the way she handles things?”
The workers actually praised Peacock warmly: “She doesn’t mistreat anyone, and she is skilled and thoughtful. The way we make salt now is so much easier than before — and we produce much more of it.”
“Oh? How so? Is it really true? I know she is capable, but salt-making? She understands that too?”
With that, the old salt worker’s tongue finally loosened, and he began explaining the salt-making process to Zhù Ying. Salt-making was something she had thought about for the better part of twenty years — how could she not have a general grasp of the process? The raw material was essentially inexhaustible — seawater — but the boiling required fuel and cauldrons, and those costs were substantial.
The old worker explained that Peacock had improved the sun-evaporation method. Of course, the local climate played a role as well — it was hot, the rains were predictable, and rainfall was not excessive. They would evaporate the seawater first to form concentrated brine, or allow it to crystallize into coarse salt, and then refine it further.
In this way, the consumption of fuel and cauldrons was reduced considerably, and since the seawater itself cost nothing, production rose. Zhù Ying worked out the general picture, offered a few more words of praise for Peacock to the salt workers, and then quietly took her leave.
When she returned to the quarters, Wu Ren had already reached her conclusions — the accounts showed no discrepancies.
Wu Ren breathed a quiet sigh of relief. No discrepancies was the best possible outcome.
Zhù Ying, however, looked at Peacock with a smile: “You improved the salt-making process. Very capable of you.”
Peacock knelt. “While you were away, the five counties were not always of one mind. Now that you have returned, everyone is still doing their own thing. This plot of land was granted to the Asu family by you — we are grateful for that. You have our loyalty; whatever you command, we will do without resentment. But the others — they were supposed to receive their share of the salt and act accordingly. They did not. They turned around and sold their portions outright for profit. If we were going to give it to them only for that, then any additional salt we produced — I would rather sell it myself.”
Su Zhe said in a low, sharp voice: “You still should not have acted without authorization.”
Peacock glanced at her but said nothing.
Zhù Ying said, “Since you have already spoken this far, you might as well tell it plainly.”
And so Peacock told everything from beginning to end — how she had been assigned to the salt fields, how she had worked diligently, researched the craft, and increased production. She had nothing to complain of in how Zhù Ying treated everyone, and the allocations to each county had followed the agreed-upon share. But one deeply irritating thing had occurred: as production rose, the other counties demanded proportionally larger shares — and then did not distribute those shares to ordinary people, but pocketed them and resold at a premium.
Peacock herself was neither young nor old. Even Su Zhe’s former handmaid could still remember the grudge against the Talang family; Peacock’s family, too, had old scores with several of the other counties. Forgetting entirely was impossible. If the others had behaved decently, she could have borne it. When they did not, she began keeping false accounts.
It was not quite accurate to call them false — she simply used the same set of books two years in a row. Any increase in production she either did not report or underreported. After Zhù Ying returned, she had reported a modest increase, as a gesture of respect to this leader she genuinely admired. The salt she had sent to Gan County later had also come from this source.
When she had finished, Peacock raised her head and said, “My lord, in a stronghold, orphans and widows are cared for by those around them — that is right and proper. But there is no justice in supporting idlers who do nothing! Being capable is no crime! I ask for your clear judgment: Wuzhou’s rules need to change.”
Su Zhe said, “You—!”
Zhù Ying raised a hand. She said to Peacock, “Bring me that real set of accounts.”
“Yes.”
Peacock handed over the true accounts. Zhù Ying gave them to Wu Ren to verify, then said to Peacock, “In the past, I was not here, and many things could not be attended to in time. Now that I have returned, if there is anything you wish to raise or any grievances, bring them to me. This shall not happen again.”
“Yes.”
“This year, you will submit according to this one,” — she held up the false accounts — then gestured to the set Wu Ren was holding — “and when the New Year comes, you will travel to the prefecture, and we will discuss next year’s affairs together.”
Peacock visibly relaxed. “Yes!”
Rather than punishing her immediately, Zhù Ying said: “I am letting this pass now — whether that ultimately proves good for you, I cannot say. If it leads to a genuine clearing of misunderstandings, so that you apply yourself wholeheartedly going forward, then it will have been good. But if you conclude that I am soft and begin to act recklessly, that will not serve you well.”
Peacock bowed her head and knelt: “I — I will remember your words, my lord!”
Zhù Ying grabbed Su Zhe by the arm. “All right, stop glaring. We have been here long enough. It is time to go home and bring in the harvest.”
…
Once they had left the salt fields, Zhù Ying said to Su Zhe, “You have been back for a year now, yet you still have not gotten a clear picture of things here. I am giving you an assignment: find out what needs finding out without alarming them. I want to see whether you have made any progress.”
Su Zhe said, “Yes!”
“Remember — you must not alarm them.”
Su Zhe took a slow, deep breath. “Yes.”
Though the salt fields had had a small incident, the matter was not what it had appeared — there had been profiteering, and yet somehow it seemed as though nothing had actually been lost. The party’s mood was not too dark.
They returned first to the Asu clan’s main stronghold, where Su Zhe stayed behind. Zhù Ying continued on her way back to Mountain City.
While at the Asu stronghold, Su Mingluan brought her another piece of news: “A message has come from the prefecture: someone has come to offer their service. Your cousin asks you to return soon to oversee the situation.”
Zhù Ying asked in surprise, “Offer their service?”
“They claim to be a distinguished scholar.”